


fever

by killerqueenwrites



Series: i got you, brother [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fever, Gen, Harley Has A Suit, Harley Keener & Peter Parker Friendship, Hurt Tony Stark, Ironfamily, Kidnapping, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: Awareness comes back to Tony in pieces. Pain. Voices. Cold.“He’s burning up – like, burning up, Peter.”“I know, I know, I’m trying–“He knows those voices.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: i got you, brother [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017171
Comments: 9
Kudos: 198





	fever

**Author's Note:**

> if you're subscribed to me, sorry for the spam you're getting. i'm reuploading some of my one-shots as individual stories to make it easier for people to find them and so they can be stories in their own right. this was originally posted here.

Tony comes to a halt as they walk off the Quinjet, gesturing for the other two to do the same. “Okay, you ready?”

They both nod.

“Harley, go with Peter. Stay with him, you hear me? He’s on point.”

He can just _tell_ Harley’s rolling his eyes, even beneath the mask. Little shit.

“This is not a negotiation. He’s more experienced. This is how it’s gonna be.”

“But I’m four days older.”

“I will kill you,” Peter mutters, not taking his eyes off the building.

“That’s the kind of teamwork I like to see!” Tony says brightly.

Peter snorts. “This is why they say never work with family.”

_Family_. Tony allows himself to grin for a moment. His family. His kids, standing in front of him in suits, ready to do the right thing.

“All right, old man. We’re going in the front, yeah?”

“ _Harley_.”

“I’m kidding! I know we’re going around the back.”

“Tony, take him,” Peter whines. “I’m begging you.”

“Nuh-uh. You know your positions. Let’s get to it.” Tony sighs. “God, I sound like Rogers.”

“Telling him you said that.”

“Good.” Tony huffs out a laugh. “Hey, at least you’re not the team baby anymore, Pete.”

“But I’m four days older.”

“Kill me now,” Peter mutters.

The warehouse is abandoned, which is why Tony picked it for Harley’s first proper mission. He’s still going to be cautious, though. Teach good habits from the outset, as Rhodey had said. And he’s paranoid. He’s so paranoid. Of course he is; these are his kids.

“Be careful,” he says, and Peter nods once before hopping on Harley’s back.

“I don’t know if this is more humiliating for me or you,” Harley says. If Peter retorts, it’s lost as he fires up his repulsors and takes off.

“Idiots,” Tony mutters. He loves them.

* * *

The warehouse is empty; FRIDAY had confirmed it, and Karen confirms it again, but Peter can’t shake the feeling that something is just…off.

Harley pushes the door open with a screech of metal and they step inside. If anything important had been here, it’s long gone. Even so…

“Keep scanning, Karen,” Peter says. “Anything weird, tell FRIDAY straight away. And me, obviously.”

_“Of course.”_

“What?” Harley says quietly.

Peter moves towards one of the storage compartments. “Bad feeling.”

Harley nods and walks further into the warehouse. “This place is _huge_ , man. So much storage space. What were the bad guys doing in here?”

“Building something,” Peter says. “Something big.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Peter’s enhanced hearing can pick up the whirr of Tony’s suit a few rooms away, sometimes obscured by Harley’s, but other than that, nothing. Nothing until Harley yanks open one of the storage rooms and freezes. Panic flashes up Peter’s spine, white-hot like lightning. Karen starts to blare an alert in the same second.

_“Explosives detected. Evacuate the area.”_

“Why couldn’t you find this earlier?” Peter yelps.

_“Unclear.”_

“Harley, come on!”

“There’s ten seconds!” Harley yells.

There’s a timer. A real-life bomb. It was a trap. They’re going to die.

Harley throws himself towards Peter, knocking them both to the ground. The entire world rumbles, quivers, leaves his ears ringing, and the warehouse crashes down around them.

* * *

Pain. It’s all he can think about; it’s all he knows.

No, not quite. There’s something more important than the agony radiating out from his thigh. Someone had been with him.

The kids!

“Peter?” Tony croaks, voice rasping in his throat. “Harley!” He tries to move, roll over, sit up, anything, but collapses with a choked scream.

What happened to him? How did he get injured through the armour? And Peter – Peter wasn’t wearing any nanotech, just his usual suit. He needs to get to them. He needs to make sure they’re okay.

He can’t move. Is there something pressing down on him? Or is his body just too heavy?

People are dancing around the edges of his blurry vision, but none of them are his kids, and he needs them, he needs to keep them safe. They’re his _children_ , his responsibility.

“I need…” Something shifts in his leg, but he’s far beyond screaming now. “Kids…”

Black.

* * *

Peter kicks the locked door a final time before turning to Harley with an apologetic grimace. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how’s your first mission going?”

“Full disclosure?” Harley plops down on the hard cot, and instantly regrets it. “Pretty shit.” He hugs his knees to his chest and tries not to think about the last time he’d been locked in a cell. “Are you ever _not_ getting kidnapped?” _Scratch that, then_.

“In my defence,” Peter says mildly, “the last time was your fault.” The men had stripped his suit off and all but thrown a matching set of a shirt and sweatpants at him. Harley’s really trying to avoid thinking how it looks like a prison uniform. Pyjamas. Yeah, he’ll go with pyjamas.

“I told you to leave.”

“And I obviously wasn’t going to.” Peter joins him on the cot with a heavy sigh. “I hope Tony’s okay.”

Harley whips his head around. “Why? What happened?”

“I heard him yell, after the place collapsed. I don’t know if he was hurt, or looking for us, or…”

“But alive, at least.”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Alive.”

* * *

Tony’s so cold. So fucking cold.

He shivers again, tries to curl into a tighter ball, but a shock of pain shoots up his leg. A choked cry bubbles in his throat.

“Shit, he looks bad.”

“No shit.”

“We need him.”

“I _know_ that. Anyone here a doctor?” A pause. “That’s what I thought.”

He doesn’t recognise the voices. He needs – he needs to see his kids. They were with him, weren’t they? Where did they go?

“Peter?” he gasps out. “Peter! Harley!”

They don’t come. Why didn’t they? What’s stopping them? He’s afraid to know the answer.

“What’s he saying?”

“Fuck if I know. Maybe he means the kids?”

“You think we should get them?”

Get them! Yes! He needs to see them, needs to know they’re safe. “Harley,” he breathes again. “Pete.”

“Not yet. The plan was to keep them separate. Wait and see if he gets better.”

What plan? Why is he here? Why aren’t the kids? What if it’s not just them – what if they have Pepper and Morgan, or Rhodey, or Happy?

“Okay, he’s freaking out again. Give him another dose.”

Darkness rushes up to meet him in a cool wave, and Tony can’t even begin to fight it.

* * *

They’re left alone for three days. Nine meals. It’s boring, but Peter infinitely prefers it to the last time he’d been captured. He doesn’t need to ask to know that Harley does, too.

Most of the time, they sit huddled on the bed together. Sometimes Peter climbs the walls, dangling upside down just for a change of scenery. Harley snorts every time, but they’re both on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

These people must know who they have, must have seen Peter’s suit when they dug him out, hyperventilating, from underneath Harley and half the warehouse. (He could have really done without the reminder of how shitty that homecoming had been, but too late now.) What do they want with them? Peter’s not sure he wants to find out.

But they’re together. They’re being fed and otherwise left alone. It could be so much worse.

When the cell door does finally swing open, Peter shoots off the cot, bending his knees as he drops into a fighting stance. Harley joins him, jaw set defiantly.

“Peter,” the guard at the door says, apropos of nothing.

Peter jolts in shock. They know. How do they know?

“Ah, so if that’s you…” The guard turns his gaze with a cruel smirk. “You’re Harley.”

Peter steps between him and the guard, a silent warning. _Don’t mouth off. Don’t make them angry._

“Yeah, he yells your names, you know. Cries when you don’t answer.”

“What are you doing to him?” Peter says, forcing his voice not to tremble. Tony crying – he’s Iron Man, he’s supposed to be untouchable, so what have these people _done_?

“Well, he’s not looking too hot at the minute, which kinda sucks for you two, because if we lose him, then we don’t need you.”

“But you need him,” Harley says. “Why?”

“Duh, he’s Tony Stark. Of course we need him. We need a smart mechanic.”

“Let me see him,” Peter says suddenly. “I’m – I’m medically trained.” It’s not exactly a lie; Sam had given him some lessons on field medicine, at Tony’s insistence.

The guard appraises him like he’s a puppy that just returned a ball for the first time. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. Maybe he’ll stop freaking out if you’re there. Come on.”

“And Harley. And I need medical stuff – what’s actually wrong with him?”

The guard doesn’t answer that, just snorts. “You know what? Who gives a shit at this point? Let’s go, boys, we’re taking a walk.”

* * *

Awareness comes back to Tony in pieces. Pain. Voices. Cold.

“He’s burning up – like, _burning_ up, Peter.”

“I know, I know, I’m trying–“

He _knows_ those voices.

“Here, try and clean it out – be gentle.”

Something scrapes at Tony’s leg, and he cries out, choked and broken.

“Oh, shit – I’m sorry, Tony.”

“No, keep going. I’m just gonna – there.”

“What was that?”

“Antibiotics.”

“He didn’t even flinch.”

“I know, just – keep going.”

Tony peels open one eye – it’s a slow, painful process – and there’s Harley, hovering over him. His kid.

“Hey!” Harley breathes, relief breaking over his face. “Hey, Tony, you’re okay.”

“You’re here,” Tony whispers, and lifts a heavy hand, clumsily patting Harley’s face. He feels real. “Where – where did you go? You were gone.”

“Yeah, we were – we were in our own shitty cell, but we’re okay – you, on the other hand…”

Harley’s here. Tony can almost ignore the next shudder that wracks his body, but… “Peter? Where…where–?”

“Right here.” Peter’s face pops into view. “Just, um…making use of those first aid lessons. And slightly panicking. But we’re good, we’re all good.”

Yeah. His kids are here. Everything is fine.

“Yeah, you get some rest. We, uh, we got this. Mostly Peter.”

Something cool is draped across his forehead, and he wonders how it feels like a good thing when he’s so cold already. “My boys,” he sighs.

“Yep. That’s us. The boys. Iron kids. Pains in your ass.”

Tony smiles. Peter’s face pops into view again.

“Don’t freak out – this is just a sedative. You need to rest. We’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

Peter manages a weak smile, but if he says anything, it’s lost in a swirl of blackness, and Tony falls into it, unable to resist.

* * *

“You didn’t promise,” Harley says pointedly, once Tony’s breathing settles into something less choppy, less pained.

“Well, I don’t know if they’ll let us stay.” Peter’s sleeves are rolled up, his hands stained with Tony’s blood. He’d been so calm when he was directing Harley, so collected, but now he looks about ready to pass out.

“That was…seriously impressive, dude.”

“Shoutout to Sam Wilson.” Peter flashes an exhausted grin.

Harley balls up one the blankets and tosses it at him. “Take a nap.”

“No, I need to–“

“You drugged him, he’s not waking up any time soon.”

Peter hesitates.

“I’ll get you if anything happens, okay? You look like you’re gonna keel over.”

“Okay,” Peter says weakly, and Harley knows he must be wiped out if he’s not even arguing. “Yeah, just…keep an eye on him.”

“Yep.” Harley hopes that means on Tony in general, and not his leg, because it’s the grossest thing he’s ever seen. Whatever caused that wound – whatever Tony got fucking _impaled_ with – must have been huge, not to mention solid enough to go straight through his armour. He’s suddenly glad for his split-second decision to cover Peter’s body with his own. “Go. Sleep. I got this for a few hours.”

Peter nods, settling down on the floor. “Hey, we should make out that it’s worse than it is. They might let us stay in.”

“Yeah. Might think we’re less of a threat, too. All of us.”

Something sparks in Peter’s eyes, the mischief and genius that Tony often warns him to put to better use. “Time to put those freshman drama classes to good use.”

“I completely agree, but not right now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sleep. I got it.” Peter wraps the blanket around himself, but doesn’t take his eyes off Tony’s face for a long time.

“Peter,” Harley says. “Go to sleep.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, but I’m four days older.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but his face is set. “I can’t lose him, Harley. I’ve lost everyone else, and I…I need to have someone. I need Tony.”

“You have loads of people,” Harley says. “You have Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Ned, MJ, me – but none of that’s important, because Tony’s gonna be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“No, he will. Now take your damn nap.”

“Bossy,” Peter mutters, but he closes his eyes.

* * *

The next time Tony wakes up, he’s more aware than he’s been in what seems like days. The agony in his leg has been reduced to a dull throb, and he’s barely shivering. The icing on the cake is Harley, perched on the end of his uncomfortable cot.

“Hey,” he croaks. He thought they’d come, but he hadn’t been sure if it was a dream or not.

“Hi, old man,” Harley whispers. “You look better. And actually with it.”

“The hell happened?”

“Not exactly sure on your end. There was a bomb in that warehouse, maybe more than one. They dragged me and Peter out of the rubble before our ears stopped ringing, and pretty much left us alone for a few days. You, on the other hand, have a gaping wound in your left thigh that got infected and you had a really high fever. It was gross. Peter did a pretty good job at playing doctor, though.”

“Where is Peter?”

Harley gestures downwards, and Tony cranes his head to see Peter wrapped in one of the thin blankets and curled in a ball on the hard floor. “We’ve been swapping out on Tony shifts.”

“No, come on – you two shouldn’t–“

“Nah, you absolutely need the bed. Not a negotiation. Infected leg, fever – sound familiar?”

Tony sighs. “I remember Doctor Parker. That was…something.”

“Oh, yeah. Gave you injections and all sorts, and only panicked a little tiny bit.” Harley puts his hand on Tony’s forehead. “You’re still a bit warm, but you’re getting there.”

“All right, all right, enough of Nurse Harley.” Tony accepts the bottle of water the kid holds out and takes a long drink. “So: these people. Any clue what they want with us?”

“Something was definitely said about a mechanic.”

“And you two?”

Harley shrugs. “Motivation, I guess. They don’t seem to give a shit that I have a suit, or that they have Spider-Man. They were pretty keen on you not dying, too.”

“Right.” Harley’s face drops a little, and Tony reaches out to clasp his wrist. “We’re gonna get out of here, Spud. Don’t worry. Daring escapes are kinda my thing.”

“I know,” Harley says. “I just hate that you got hurt.”

“Hey, I’ve had worse, buddy. At least we’re all together now, and you two are okay.”

“Yeah.” Harley stares at the wall for a moment. “Look, we’ve kinda been pretending it’s worse than it is, so if you could look dead-slash-dying whenever anyone comes to check on us, that would be great.”

“So they don’t take you away again?”

“We get to stay, they underestimate you, and we can plan.”

“Smart.”

“Oh, you’d be amazed what’s knocking around up here. How’s your leg feeling?”

“A bit hot. Not too bad, though.”

“Good. Last thing we need is you dying of sepsis. I didn’t even think injuries got infected like that anymore – that’s some medieval shit.”

“Well, that’s what happens in super hygienic places like this.” Tony squints at the grimy walls. “Is this the same building we were scoping out?”

“No, that was blown to bits, but Peter doesn’t think it’s far away.”

“Okay, so the team have somewhere to start looking. Is there a routine?”

“Three meals a day, pretty regular.”

“Our suits?”

“Not a clue, sorry.”

“We’ll need one to send a distress signal. Peter’s is the best option – small, lightweight, easy to carry.”

Harley nods. “Okay, but we can’t do anything right now. Let’s all rest, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony says with a smirk.

“Nah, I ain’t in charge here. JV team, remember? I’m on probation.”

“Let’s pretend it’s _Star Trek_. Emergency command.”

“Oh, you’re making pop culture references now? Yeah, you’re fine.”

Tony swats at him. “Brat.”

* * *

“I really appreciate this,” Tony says, as Harley finds the least uncomfortable spot on the floor and Peter settles down for a shift on the cot, “but you two don’t have to do this. Let me take the floor, at least for a few hours, and you can share the bed.”

“Nope!” Harley says.

“You could’ve died,” Peter whispers. “Just let us look after you for once.”

“I’m good, Webs. I promise.”

Peter hums, not convinced, and suddenly tenses at the sound of footsteps, cocking his head to the side. “They’re coming. Tony–“

Tony understands, closing his eyes instantly. The door flies open, bangs against the wall, and it takes everything in Peter not to flinch away.

_Danger. Something bad._

“Get him up,” the first man snaps, gesturing to Tony.

“He’s still–“

“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?”

One of the guards storms forward, yanking Peter off the bed by his shirt and slamming him into the wall. Another does the same to Harley, and laughs when he yelps.

“Search them. Find it.”

“Find what?” Peter asks. The guard smacks him across the face, hard.

“Hey!” Tony barks, apparently giving up the charade completely.

“Him, too. Find whatever they have, whatever they made. Destroy it, and then get them out of here. We need to move out before the Avengers find us.”

The team’s coming. Peter can barely hold in his sigh of relief, even as his cheek smarts.

“We don’t have anything,” Harley says. The guard tugs his shoes off anyway, shaking them as if he expects something to fall out.

The sudden explosion makes them all jump. The guard’s grip on Peter slips for a moment, but it’s enough; he scrambles up the wall, kicking out at the leader as he does so. Another explosion rocks the building, and the rest of the guards turn and run.

Harley leaps over to Tony’s cot and helps him to his feet, while Peter drops to the ground and peeks his head out of the door.

“Corridor’s clear,” he calls, pulling Tony’s other arm around his shoulder.

“I see them!” It’s unmistakably Sam’s voice. “Ground floor, north side.”

Rhodey lands in front of them, faceplate already folded back and his expression exasperated. “We really gotta stop meeting like this. All of you.”

“Yeah, my bad this time,” Tony grunts. “Let’s go, come on.”

“Why’re you limping?”

“‘Cause my leg hurts.”

“ _Why_ does your leg hurt?”

“Boys!” Pepper lands beside Rhodey. “Let’s wrap this up, please. Morgan’s with Happy, and you know he can never say no when she asks for juice pops.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harley says.

“Jet, now.”

Tony smirks as they start walking again. “Have I ever told you that you’re amazing? Because you’re amazing, Pep.”

“I love you too, honey. Not the time.”

“What’s happening to him?” Harley mutters.

“Maybe a delayed reaction to the painkillers?” Peter says. “Honestly, no idea.”

“I love my family!” Tony announces to the world. Sam shoots him a strange look.

Rhodey groans. “I hate this family.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr at [akillerqueenwrites](https://akillerqueenwrites.tumblr.com), or my main blog [akillerqueenyouare](https://akillerqueenyouare.tumblr.com). come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me. i've also made a twitter, [@killerqueenao3](https://twitter.com/killerqueenao3) , if any of you want to talk to me there (it's mostly pictures of my dog). thank you for reading!


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